#EpicFind: Deep ... Deep ... Inside Craigslist

OOOHHH Craigslist. You are totes the caramel syrup in my Dunkin Donut coffee dreams. MMMMM DUNKIN DONUTS!!!!!!!!!!

Either way, just found this blessed little gem and had to share ...

It says ... AND I QUOTE:

Yoga mat for sale. Used once at lunch hour class in December 2009. Usage timeline as follows:

11:45a
Register for hot yoga class. Infinite wisdom tells me to commit to 5 class package and purchase a yoga mat. I pay $89.74. Money well spent, I smugly confirm to myself.

11:55a
Open door to yoga room. A gush of hot dry air rushes through and past me. It smells of breath, sweat and hot. Take spot on floor in back of room next to cute blonde. We will date.

11:57a
I feel the need to be as near to naked as possible. This is a problem because of the hot blonde to my left and our pending courtship. She will not be pleased to learn that I need to lose 30 pounds before I propose to her.

11:58a
The shirt and sweats have to come off. I throw caution to the wind and decide to rely on my wit and conditioning to overcome any weight issues my fiancée may take issue with. This will take a lot of wit and conditioning.

11:59a
Begin small talk with my bride to be. She pretends to ignore me but I know how she can be. I allow her to concentrate and stare straight ahead and continue to pretend that I don't exist. As we finish sharing our special moment, I am suddenly aware of a sweat moustache that has formed below my nose. This must be from the all the whispering between us.

12:00p
Instructor enters the room and ascends her special podium at the front of the room. She is a slight, agitated Chinese woman. She introduces me to the class and everyone turns around to greet me just as I decide to aggressively adjust my penis and testes packed in my Under Armor. My bride is notably unfazed.

12:02p
Since I do have experience with Hot Yoga (4 sessions just 5 short years ago) I fully consider that I may be so outstanding and skilled that my instructor may call me out and ask me to guide the class. My wife will look on with a sparkle in her eye. We will make love after class.

12:10p
It is now up to 95 degrees in the room. We have been practicing deep breathing exercises for the last 8 minutes. This would not be a problem if we were all breathing actual, you know, oxygen. Instead, we are breathing each other's body odor, expelled carbon dioxide and other unmentionables. (Don't worry, I'll mention them later.)

12:26p
It is now 100 degrees and I take notice of the humidity, which is hovering at about 90%. I feel the familiar adorning stare of my bride and decide to look back at her. She appears to be nauseated. I then realize that I forgot to brush my teeth prior to attending this class. We bond.

12:33p
It is now 110 degrees and 95% humidity. I am now balancing on one leg with the other leg crossed over the other. My arms are intertwined and I am squatting. The last time I was in this position was 44 years ago in the womb, but I'm in this for the long haul. My wife looks slightly weathered dripping sweat and her eyeliner is streaming down her face. Well, "for better or worse" is what we committed to so we press on.

12:40p
The overweight Hispanic man two spots over has sweat running down his legs. At least I think its sweat. He is holding every position and has not had a sip of water since we walked in. He is making me look bad and I hate him.

12:44p
I consider that if anyone in this room farted that we would all certainly perish.

12:52p
It is now 140 degrees and 100% humidity. I am covered from head to toe in sweat. There is not a square millimeter on my body that is not slippery and sweaty. I am so slimy that I feel like a sea lion or a maybe sea eel. Not even a bear trap could hold me. The sweat is stinging my eyeballs and I can no longer see.

12:55p
This room stinks of asparagus, cloves, tuna and tacos. There is no food in the room. I realize that this is an amalgamation of the body odors of 30 people in a 140 degree room for the last 55 minutes. Seriously, enough with the asparagus, ok?

1:01p
140 degrees and 130% humidity. Look, bitch, I need my space here so don't get all pissy with me if I accidentally sprayed you with sweat as I flipped over. Seriously, is that where this relationship is going? Get over yourself. We need counseling and she needs to be medicated. Stat!

1:09p
150 degrees and cloudy. And hot. I can no longer move my limbs on my own. I have given up on attempting any of the commands this Chinese chick is yelling out at us. I will lay sedentary until the aid unit arrives. I will buy this building and then have it destroyed.
I lose consciousness.

1:15p
I have a headache and my wife is being a selfish bitch. I can't really breathe. All I can think about is holding a cup worth of hot sand in my mouth. I cannot remember what an ice cube is and cannot remember what snow looks like. I consider that my only escape might be a crab walk across 15 bodies and then out of the room. I am paralyzed, and may never walk again so the whole crab walk thing is pretty much out.

1:17p
I cannot move at all and cannot reach my water. Is breathing voluntary or involuntary? If it's voluntary, I am screwed. I stopped participating in the class 20 minutes ago. Hey, lady! I paid for this frickin class, ok?! You work for me! Stop yelling at everyone and just tell us a story or something. It's like juice and cracker time, ok?

1:20p
It is now 165 degrees and moisture is dripping from the ceiling. The towel that I am laying on is no longer providing any wicking or drying properties. It is actually placing additional sweat on me as I touch it. My towel reeks. I cannot identify the smell but no way can it be from me. Did someone spray some stank on my towel or something?

1:30p
Torture session is over. I wish hateful things upon the instructor. She graciously allows us to stay and 'cool down' in the room. It is 175 degrees. Who cools down in 175 degrees? A Komodo Dragon? My wife has left the room. Probably to throw up.

1:34p
My opportunity to escape has arrived. I roll over to my stomach and press up to my knees. It is warmer as I rise up from ground level - probably by 15 degrees. So let's conservatively say it's 190. I muster my final energy and slowly rise. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. Towards the door. Towards the door.

1:37p
The temperature in the lobby is 72 degrees. Both nipples stiffen to diamond strength and my penis begins to retract into my abdomen from the 100 degree temp swing. I can once again breathe though so I am pleased. I spot my future ex wife in the lobby. We had such a good thing going but I know that no measure of counseling will be able to unravel the day's turmoil and mental scaring.

1:47p
Arrive at Emerald City Smoothie and proceed to order a 32 oz beverage. 402 calories, 0 fat and 14 grams of protein -- effectively negating any caloric burn or benefit from the last 90 minutes. I finish it in 3 minutes and spend the next 2 hours writing this memoir.

3:47p
Create Craigslist ad while burning final 2 grams of protein from Smoothie and before the "shakes" consume my body.

4:29p
Note to self - check car for missing wet yoga towel in am.

#epic

#GeekSpeak: The sometimes random misadventures of @Abby_Cake

<editorsnote> Nerds, meet my buddy Abby. I met her in Chicago at the #20SBSummit, and this chick is raaaddddd!! She considers herself more of a nerd than a geek - but I think she's just all shades of random and awesome. Oh and FTR, the TNTML stance on nerds versus geeks are that nerds are products of a genetic predisposition, and geeks are raised. BOOH-YAH!!! I only have one more thing left to say ... HIT IT ABBY!!! </editorsnote>

#TalkNerdyToMeLover's @Abby_Cake

If you follow me on twitter you may have noticed that I started up my yoga practice again this month (it's National Yoga Month after all!) I have done all types of yoga: Bikram, which is basically yoga inside of a kiln, Hatha Flow, etc. Along with that lovely month when I decided to stop paying for the classes and buy some yoga DVDs off Amazon.com. My attempt at being frugal was not as prudent as I hoped it would be.  Apparently to properly balance in some of the poses you need flat  ground, not carpet, which is only available to me in the bathroom and kitchen. I chose kitchen.

The instructor was all, "Okay, get ready to reach your head toward the  floor and pull through your legs." I'm like, "I can do that." Position  attained! "Reach your arms like this and twist this way" "Wait what?!  I'm sorry, I can't see you on the other side of my breakfast bar with my  head between my legs facing the oven." "Don't quit now!" "I'm not  quitting bitch! I just don't know WTF I am doing! And I think the salt  and pepper set is laughing at me..."

So yoga at home -- not so much.
 

My favorite pose. ^

But fortune smiled upon me, and I found a studio in my new town that offers $5 classes, or 10 classes for $40 (I know, I thought she was crazy too), and I decided to start going twice a week.

My first class was only five people, and I am definitely the only one under 40. The initial objective was for me to impress my teacher with my youthfully flexible spine, should be easy considering the competition -- ha! I forgot how out of practice a year or so without yoga can make you. MAN, I was out of shape, flailing all over the ground like a sardine. Even my mountain pose was tremulous. But I did it to the best of my ability.

After class I thanked my teacher (namaste style) and we had a brief conversation about my yoga practice. I confided that it had been quite a while since my last class and could no longer contort myself into bow pose. I extolled the virtues of her amazing prices, explaining the only way I could afford yoga previously was with my teacher discount.

She then began asking about my favorite poses and I told her, at the end she asked if I wanted to sub for her at some point. I assumed that she was so impressed by my ability to push through class with great form, despite my recent lack of practice, that she wanted me to inspire other students (I obviously need to keep my ego in check). I said yes.

I realized when I got in the truck that she had probably mistaken my "teacher discount" for "yoga-teacher discount" when in fact... it was not. I taught English, which means I can spell yoga correctly. #footinmouth

So the outcome is either: I stop going to class, I take a yoga teacher training and pretend I know everything (this is the one I was leaning toward, obviously) or I keep going and act like I am "not ready" to teach until I leave for Korea, then run to the other side of the world. I will keep you updated on my #yogashenanigans in the future. Namaste. 

xx, @abby_cake

#nerdsunite

Want more from Abby?? Check out her blog over yonder - and don't forget to drop her a follow on twitter!!

Facebook Status O'El Dia

To do list: 1. Stop the world 2. Melt with you. 3 Figure out how to start the world again before people get pissed.

This has been an actual Facebook Status Update. Read more here:

Fun with #OkCupid: Breaking down emotional unavailability

Well hello there sexy lover faces. Here I be just browsin' my OKC account before what I hope is going to be an adventurous Saturday night ... (you better not fail me DC!!) ... and found this email. Thought I would share. Whabadaba-dap-dap-doo ...

Do I think I am attracted to guys who treat me that way - umm, in regards to that post (read it here - that fucker made me cry!!)? No. It was a physical lust. He looked exactly like this guy I dated when I was 18.

What do I mean about emotional unavailability? It is the act of being shut off to the world. I started this site because of a broken heart, and even getting me to date again was like PULLING TEETH, hence why I only did it if I could document, and hence why when I started documenting I accidentally wound up going on over 103 dates in 9 months ... I am very very very devoted to what I do.

Emotional unavailability is a vacant sign on your forehead; I don't know how else to describe it. You aren't looking for anything serious because your brain can literally not handle anything more. Your body however is still animalistic and has carnal desires that cannot be denied - hence why I'll still see and bone dudes, but not let it get much further.

Do I feel less connected to a guy that thinks the world of me? I don't know. I am in conflict with that almost every day. I want a guy to do romantic things for me, what girl doesn't like flowers??? But what turns me on the most about a guy is someone who challenges me, pushes me - tells me to take that risk. I want a partner in crime, I don't want a guy to put me on a pedestal. The problem with duderinos that are most likely going to challenge me are the ones that aren't romantic and end up being kinda douchey. Is there a balance to that? Not sure. I'd like to be hopeful, but I've also never even had a Valentine or a terribly romantic dinner. I usually just end up dating my guy friends because they are there, and as far as anything else I've always sacrificed work before love. Sad, but true.

I want to break my pattern - that is why I document my life, through transparency I hope to psychoanalyze and receive input from the internet on what I can do next, etc. I don't ever know what I'm doing, but I am confident enough every day to just show up for life and see what works.

Between you, me, and well - the internet ... I actually want to stop having casual sex. It's been weighing on my heart for the last 30 days, and I'm getting kind of over it. Don't get me wrong, I will ABSOLUTELY need to figure something out, and who knows maybe turn it into a social experiment to hold me personally accountable - but it gets old, and empty.

Kiss, bone, sleep, wake up, leave - if you're in town call again.

Kiss, bone, sleep, wake up, leave - if you're in town call again.

Kiss, bone, sleep, wake up, leave - if you're in town call again.

I don't want that life. Me declaring that however is the first step, following it up with tasks is my next doable action. Need to stay disciplined though, so I'll have to process some things out to make sure I am held accountable.

I am excited that this week I have a pretty rad date on Thursday or Friday. It's with a guy I've had a crush on for a while, so we'll see. That's the thing though, even if you have casual sex it's never great. (Well, I take that back, it can be ... but very very very rare.) What makes good sex - great, is an emotional connection and a bond in some capacity. I'm not talking love, I'm talking like, and not lust. I want to be in like with someone. I want to be able to open up my heart, tame my inner animal, and let more of my emotional self be present. I deny my feelings all of the time when the fact of the matter is is that I get terribly lonely. I want a guy I can call periodically, I want a guy I can gush with about my day, and listen to his. I want an intimate relationship with someone ... somewhere. I'm picky so it will be a process, but I'm ready.

You hear that world?

I'm ready for you.

Here ... this song is on my playlist. Just listen to how sad the lyrics are. Totally describes how I feel though ...

#lovesavetheempty

#NerdsUnite: What's up DC! Who's down to kick it tonight??

OOOHHHHHH bless, I am just ... a hot mess today. My soul is like defeated after spending a month back east. Again, NYC was obviously rad - those are my peoples too, but this whole east coast proper New England thaaannnnnggg just ain't my scene. Not mad at it - of course, but I really really really just want to have fun tonight. Like really really really have organic, beer drinking, girl burping, booty shaking ... FUN!!!!! 

If you live in the area, and want to also have that kinda fun - totes come out to Sine Irish Pub tonight in Arlington, VA. I figure if you read this site we clearly have something in common which is 99% more than I have had with everyone I have interacted with in the last month. 

It's my last night on the road - and I'd love love love to go out with a bang or at least be so hungover that I have to use my puke bag on the plane tomorrow. 

Seriously, I've never had to use it ... but I kinda feel like that should be a goal in life at one point. 

Ewe ... wait, maybe not. 

But yah! Here's the addy: 

Sine' Irish Pub on Pentagon Row

1301 S. Joyce St Arlington, VA 22202

p: 703-415-4420 f: 703-415-4421

9pm.

And like don't be one of those weirdos that comes to a 9pm party at like midnight. I'm going to get there at 9 and if it's like too lame or whatever, we'll bounce around. Translation: I ain't waitin' for ya!! Let's just have fun peoples. 

I just want beer, good times, and good people. If you also want those three things, I'd love to talk to you. If not, sod off because I'm cranky. 

Look forward to seeing/ meeting you guys. Like no, that part I'm for real on - you all MAKE MY FRIGGEN LIFE!!! BAH!! Let's go have some fucking fun!!! 

#loveyoulongtime